Weary
by Dr.E. Vance
Summary: Yeah, I am pretty tired...tired of dreaming of you. Preslash.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing from the show. Not the characters or blah, blah, blah. If I did, I'd make this fanfic come true, now wouldn't I? **

**A.N: Um… this is just a "little" oneshot. This is preslash just to warn you, so it's not bad at all. **

**(-----------------------------------------------)**

"_I could get any guy here. And I'm dancing with you."_

_- Stuart to Carter_

He woke in a cold sweat. He never had awoken feeling that way before. At least he couldn't remember waking up that way. There were a few times he woke, not remembering how he got home, but he was sure this wasn't one of those times.

What had he been dreaming? He sat up and thought a moment, rubbing his temples before remembering. Yes, oh, how could he forget. He considered, for a spilt moment going back to bed and trying to forget it, but it always came back when he fell asleep. So he stood and shoved on his robe and slippers and stood.

He made his way into the kitchen and then kind of stood still. What was he going to do? Why was he in kitchen? What time was it? He quickly answered the last question by a abrupt turn to the clock. 1AM exactly. He sighed and tapped his foot.

Finally he decided what he needed to do. He's had a similar dream for over three weeks. It wasn't something he would consider doing in his wildest dreams… and his dreams were pretty wild lately. He sighed again and walked to a closed door next to his room and knocked before opening it.

"…Carter? Can I talk to you a minute?"

(------)

"What? Stuart?" Carter slowly sat up and turned his light on only slightly so he could still see, but still give his eyes a chance to adjust.

"Yeah, hi." Stuart looked to the floor and kicked at the carpet, his hands in his robe pockets.

"What's the matter?" Carter was sincerely curious. It wasn't often (try never) that Stuart came into his room at 1AM asking to talk to him. Stuart didn't say anything, though, and continued staring at the floor, regret creeping up on him.

"Nothing. Nevermind. I'm sorry I bothered you." Stuart turned, but Carter scampered up and snatched Stuart's elbow.

"Talk to me. You never come into my room asking for something. If you don't count that time you sleep-walked in here and…"

"Yeah. We weren't going to talk about that anymore, remember? Anyway… it doesn't matter."

"It does. Come on. Sit on the bed." Carter motioned to the bed and, to prove he was serious, he sat cross legged and patted next to him. Stuart finally gave in and shuffled over, sitting down carefully.

"I just…" Stuart paused and finally looked up at Carter. The lights were still dim, but he could see how tired Carter was. Regret came back and tapped in the back of his head slowly. Carter sat, fully prepared to wait as long as he had to. It wasn't often (again) that Stuart opened up, willingly, about something before.

"I'm not going to laugh or anything." Carter tried to prompt him continue.

"I don't know. I've just been having these… weird… dreams lately."

"About what?" Carter stopped himself and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want…"

"No, no. They're about my mom."

"What about you're mom?"

"Bad stuff." Stuart stared at his lap and Carter thought that maybe he was crying, but Stuart looked up again and there was no hint of tears on his face.

"Like what?"

"Like… bad… stuff." Stuart sighed, trying to figure out how to tell him without actually telling him. Could he really tell Carter what he was dreaming about? How it wasn't exactly dreams, but fantasies?

Carter was actually worried about Stuart. He was quiet and distant. He was never like that. He had never seen Stuart act this way. Well, maybe he had, now that he recalled. Once when his mother… called…

"Look. Stuart. It's 1AM. If you're not going to talk, I'm going to get a drink of water. When I come back you better be ready to talk, or you're going to have to leave. I'm very tired."

Carter meant it, too. He was full on ready to kick Stuart out of the room when he came back. He walked out and poured the water, taking a long drink and giving Stuart extra time to think. He nearly dropped the glass when he turned around, to see Stuart standing behind him like a zombie.

"I'm sorry, Carter. I thought I could talk, but I guess not."

"Yeah. I guess not." They paused and took a look at each other. "So, you going to bed?"

"No. I think I'll sit out here a minute."

"Alright." Carter put the glass in the sink and walked away. Stuart walked to the couch and sat down.

(----------)

Carter didn't know what it was, but once he was in bed, he couldn't sleep. He laid there, with the lights off, trying to decipher what Stuart wanted to tell him. Dreams about bad stuff… and his mother? He stared at the clock for what seemed like the millionth time. It was only 1:45 a.m.

He couldn't stand it anymore. He sat up, flicked the lights on, and pushed the covers off. He threw the door open and expected to be relieved to see nothing there and just pick it apart as his own paranoia. But when he looked, there was Stuart on the couch still and Carter couldn't tell if he was asleep or not.

He moved closer and saw that Stuart just seemed to be staring at nothing and now Carter was really starting to get worried.

"Stuart. What the hell is going on?" Carter walked in front of Stuart and kneeled down so he was eye to eye with his best friend. Stuart refused to look at him. "What's the matter?"

"Okay. I lied about my dreams. I'm not really sure what or how to tell you, so I thought I could make something up but I couldn't." Stuart finally said something and stared right at Carter and shrugged his shoulders. "I just feel kind of stupid."

"Why?" Carter wondered if he was dreaming. Or maybe Stuart was drunk.

"Well… they're… they're… confusing."

"Confusing?"

"You ask a lot of questions." They laughed slightly before Stuart's face dropped again. "Nah… I mean… they're confusing for me. I just… I like girls Carter. You know - boobs!"

"What?" Carter sat back on his heels and furrowed his brows. Obviously, if he could figure out basically what Stuart was hinting to, his dreams were confusing dreams about the same sex. "I think I get what your saying. Do you remember anything?"

"Not much."

"Damn."

"Yeah."

"This is a problem."

"No shit." Stuart responded and leaned back on the couch, letting his hand run unconsciously through his hair. Carter got up off the floor and sat down on the couch, leaning back himself but letting his hands rest in his lap, seeming as he had

no hair to run them through. Carter knew he'd had these dreams before, but it didn't bother him at the time because… well for evident reasons. But for Stuart, one of the straightest guys he's ever known… that wasn't a fair judgment he pondered. Charlie and Paul were pretty straight. He wasn't sure about the Mayor sometimes, though.

"Well Stuart." Carter got ready to stand. "They're just dreams, huh? Now really, can we go back to bed? It's not like we don't have work in the morning, right?" he laughed and stood. Truthfully, he was just making an excuse because he wasn't sure what he was going to say.

Stuart was secretly grateful. He had revealed too much, and now Carter knew exactly what was going on and that isn't what he had expected to happen. At least, he hadn't expected Carter to be so nice about it.

"Yeah. I am pretty tired." Stuart agreed, unwillingly, and arose to walk to his room. They smiled and went their separate ways (all of a few feet) and climbed into their own beds. "Tired of dreaming of you."


End file.
